


You Mean Everything

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Series: 31 Days of Ficmas 2020 [23]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Anxiety, Christmas Party, Denial of Feelings, Drinking, F/F, Feelings, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Minor Injuries, Mutual Pining, Pining, Shopping, Teasing, mcuchristmasexchange2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:53:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28261197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: Natasha asks Maria to be her date to the Christmas party but then doesn’t show when the night comes. Maria leaves broken hearted only to find Natasha waiting at her doorstep.
Relationships: Maria Hill/Natasha Romanov
Series: 31 Days of Ficmas 2020 [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035468
Comments: 2
Kudos: 80
Collections: MCU Christmas Exchange





	You Mean Everything

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GaeilgeRua](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaeilgeRua/gifts).



Maria wiped the sweat from her forehead. Dave was an ideal sparring partner; quick on his feet, solid enough to pack a heavy punch and sensible enough not to hold back against his superior. A strong tactical mind, he constantly thought up new patterns of attack and was never predictable. He more than held his own against Maria but she inevitably made the final knock out hit. Today, though, she was off her form.

From the moment she woke, Maria knew that she wasn’t her best. A long week of placating politicians and swallowing their shit had finally taken its toll. Exhaustion weighed heavily on her mind. With apparently every coffee machine in the building broken, she was running on fumes and her energy and reactions were at an all time low. All of that meant that Maria was too busy fighting her own body to ever stand a good chance against one of SHIELD’s best. 

She dodged a right hook but stumbled straight into the path of Dave’s left and a sharp kick to the stomach had her back against the wall, winded. As Maria fought to catch her breath, she pushed her already screaming muscles as far as they would go and then a little more to feign a path around her opponent and land a blow to the back of Dave’s knee. 

It should have given her ample time to bring him down but Maria’s brain just blanked and by the time she grabbed him Dave was rebalanced and pissed. Throwing his entire weight into the attack, he slammed Maria into the ground and twisted her arm so far round that they both knew there was no getting out it without drastic, and unnecessary for a training scenario, action. 

Maria tapped the mat three times and groaned as she rolled onto her back. She stared up at Dave, expecting to see that victorious, shit eating grin that he wore after every victory, but instead was met only with concern. She really was off her game if Dave, a great fighter but, frankly, a shit spy, was able to read her. 

“You alright? That was almost easy.” 

Dave offered his hand but Maria knocked it away. She made a show of rolling her eyes as she sat up to cover the tight press of her lips, sharp waves of pain emanating from her side. There would definitely be a bruise there in the morning. And, although she couldn’t say for sure, there was a strong chance her shoulder was dislocated. There was no way in Hell that Maria would let Dave know that, though.

Not for a single moment did Dave believe her hollow response of “I’m fine” but, as she had noted in multiple evaluations, he was an astute man. Smart enough not to ask again or raise any further concerns. Still, he spared her another concerned sideways glance as he left the training room. 

The moment the door clicked shut, Maria doubled over and let out a guttural groan. Her shoulder was _definitely_ dislocated. She couldn’t go to medical again, though. She’d already been six times this month and had been on non combat duty for over half of that time. No, Maria could fix this herself. It wouldn’t be the first time and most likely wouldn’t be the last. At least this time she was in doors and there wasn’t any blood to content with. 

Positioning herself on the mat, Maria brought her right knee up and wrapped her fingers around the joint, wincing with every inch she moved her arm. She leaned back and stretched her neck, then pulled her hips and elbows as far from the dislocated shoulder as she could without screaming. 

As she circled her shoulders forward, Maria created a shopping list in her mind. The mundaneness of her thoughts helped to focus away from the pain but after a few minutes without success Maria feared that she would have to take a trip to medical after all. 

At least until the door clicked and Natasha walked in. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and she hid her figure beneath multiple layers of loose fabric. She took one look at Maria and sighed. Immediately, without a word, Natasha crossed the room and knelt down on the mat. Her fingers were gentle as she found her position before a sharp sudden push knocked the joint back into place. 

“Dave? Really?”

“Don’t.”

Natasha smirked and helped Maria to her feet. There wasn’t anyone else in SHIELD, save for perhaps Fury himself, that Maria allowed to see her as less perfect. To accept assistance of any kind was a weakness, a sign that she wasn’t as infallible as she wanted – needed – the rest of the organisation to believe. But with Natasha it didn’t seem so important. If there was anyone else in the world that understood the pressure, self imposed or otherwise, she was under then it was Natasha. 

“Are you going to take him to the Christmas party?”

“Who?” Maria grabbed a few painkillers from her bag and swallowed them without water, pleasantly surprised by the other woman’s talkative mood. Like herself, Natasha was an intensely private person and very rarely initiated conversation. In fact, she was often so reserved during work hours that her interest was actually a red flag. “Spit it out, then. Ask whatever you came to ask.”

Supported by the wall, Natasha crossed her arms over her chest and smiled gently over having been caught out. “Richard Evans has asked me to go with him and I need an out.”

Maria nodded, grateful for the straight and upfront answer. Still, she couldn’t quite fathom why the other woman had come to her for the favour. There were plenty of other agents that would jump at the chance to go as Natasha’s date to a party, to have her hang off their arm in aid of pissing off whichever stuck up, billionaire CEO thought they could buy her attentions. 

“Why me?”

“Because I actually enjoy spending time with you.”

A hopeful warmth spread through Maria’s chest but she quickly pushed it aside. There was nothing flirtatious about Natasha’s stance, nothing that would suggest she meant the compliment as anything other than a friend. It was fine. Maria had long accepted that there would always be a distance between them and it was okay. She would take whatever parts of herself that Natasha was willing to offer, even if she always wanted more. 

“Barton’s busy, isn’t he?”

Too seriously, not catching the light jab, or perhaps purposefully ignoring it, Natasha shook her head. “Wouldn’t know. I haven’t asked him yet. You’re my first choice.”

“Oh.” Maria released her hair, caught the greasy strands and pulled them back into another ponytail which was exactly as neat and tidy as it had been moments before. As she gathered her things and slung her training bag over her good shoulder, Maria felt Natasha’s intense gaze on her every second. Not much flustered her but that level of attention certainly came close. 

Finally meeting Natasha’s gaze as she grabbed the door handle, Maria muttered a quiet thanks then said, “Of course, I’ll go with you, Romanoff.”

Natasha nodded but her eyes shone with happiness. “It’s a date, then. Have you got anything to wear?” Maria shook her head. “Me neither. Dress shopping on Saturday then?”

***

There was a reason that Maria spent such long days at HQ and was more than content to work weekends when all other ‘sensible’ people didn’t even think about their job, let alone allow it to consume their waking hours. Surrounded by the mass of grumbling people, the bad smells and thick air, the constant shoving and all together horrendous noise of the city, Maria felt more detached from reality than ever.

Civilian life was no for her. She’d learned it a long time ago. There was simply nothing to be gained for her in the ‘real’ world. Of course, she’d give her life to protect it for every other person on the planet but there was no way she could comfortably integrate into the monotony of a regular existence. 

Even if she didn’t thrive on the pressure and adrenaline that SHIELD provided her, hadn’t grown so desperate for the thrill and danger that she could walk away, it was that everyone else was simply so… _dull._ People and personal connections were something Maria could more often than not quite happily do without and the thought of having to exist in a bubble where smiling at crude jokes and pretending to care about her neighbour’s brother’s kid cousin and their piano recital was enough to make her want to jump from her office window. That sort of insincerity would kill her long before any alien threat got the chance. 

Thankfully, before the constant bustle of the crowd convinced her to step into the street and end her misery, Maria caught sight of a familiar face in the distance. Clearly unaffected by the December chill, Natasha strode down the street, heels clicking against the pavement, thin summer coat blowing in the breeze. Her red hair hung loosely around her rosy cheeks, the only indication that she felt the cold in any way.

Her entire demeanour brightened when she saw Maria and she considered that this was the first time they’d ever done anything remotely non-work related together. The pair often stayed late in the office together, claiming to prefer to work ridiculous hours and give the hours a purpose, but, for Maria at least, it was more for the company. Going home to an empty flat was depressing and she would rather spend hours pouring over pointless reports with Natasha for silent company than sit around alone. 

Aside from those long nights, the only other time they really spent time together was post workouts or, more recently, over shared lunches. But that was all still work, really. This, though… There were no intelligence sheets between them, no tactical maps or encoded data. It was just the two of them, shopping together for a party like a normal couple might.

Maria shook the thought so violently from her mind that she almost felt dizzy. They were out together as friends. No point entertaining the impossibility of more when it would only cast a shadow on what could still be a fun day out. 

“You’re late.”

Natasha pursed her lips together in what could have been misconstrue as a contentious reaction if Maria didn’t know her better. In reality, it was as close to an apology as Natasha ever got, followed by the brief explanation of: “The roads are blocked. Getting a taxi was a nightmare. I really do hate shopping at Christmastime.”

Having spent the past ten minutes watching the organised mayhem and thinking exactly the same thing, Maria pushed the issue aside and gestured down the street. “Shall we?”

As they strode down the busy streets, Natasha walked so close to Maria that their hands near constantly brushed. Even when the crowds began to thin as they turned into one of the more luxurious malls – the kind where not a single shop sold clothes off the rack – Natasha stuck to her side and kept the distance minimal. 

She should have just stepped away, put a few extra inches between them. Always observant, Natasha would have taken the hint and never gotten than close again. That was half the problem, though. Maria didn’t want Natasha to keep away. As long as she stayed close, Maria could pretend there was a chance of a deeper relationship. She could savour the light scent of Natasha’s perfume, maybe even hope that the fragrance lingered on her own clothes – it was pathetic, she knew, but it was Christmas; perhaps she could afford to indulge her heart just a little. 

A sharp contrast to the flashing neon lights and other tacky decorations that seemed to blanket the rest of the city, the stores and boutiques here favoured far more minimalist designs. There were enough wooden decorations and branches to repopulate an entire forest, and so many candles that it simply had to be a safety concern. Still, the mute, traditional colours were a welcome sight after the frankly horrifying inflatable Santas outside.

“Let’s go this way.” Natasha swerved off to the left, leaving Maria to jog after her in order to keep up. That woman really could move. She strut through the mall like she was on her way to murder a target, oozing self confidence, utterly captivating and just a little terrifying. Everyone stared as they passed, mesmerised by the red head, and Maria could hardly blame them. 

They came to a stop outside one of the most exclusive boutiques in the mall, so elite that they only allowed membership of a few hundred people at a time. Maria turned to Natasha and raised an eyebrow. While she believed the other woman to possess remarkable talents, no amount of battering her eyelashes or sweet talking the man on the door would get them in. 

A sly smile played on Natasha’s lips as she stepped forward. The immaculately dressed assistance, his watch costing more than both women’s entire outfits, greeted her by name and gestured inside. “Julius will meet you inside, Ms Romanova.”

Only after they were sat on a plush sofa, handed glasses of expensive champagne and even offered a small plate of nibbles was Maria finally able to find her voice. “This is not what I expected when you invited me shopping.”

Natasha made herself comfortable, long limbs draped elegantly across the sofa, and lifted the thin glass to her mouth. She was the absolute picture of elegance, even in jeans. Maria tried not to stare as Natasha licked her lips, and failed drastically. Replacing her glass on the table, Natasha grinned. “Only the best for you, boss. You deserve a treat.”

“There’s a treat and there’s _this_.” 

The boutique was small but every inch screamed money. Mirrors lined the walls but instead of relaxed by the 360 view Maria grew tense, unable to shake the feeling of being watched. The attentiveness of the assistants left her uneasy. The soft festive music, designed to lull her into calm compliance, grated inside her skull. 

This was so far from her world, an environment in which she did not belong. Her only invitations to places like this were forged by SHIELD operatives, back doors created to allow her in on a mission, to get close to a target and extract information. Missions where nine out of ten went to plan but the one that didn’t ended with emergency extractions and weeks in the hospital and recovery, where billionaires extended their power in a hundred horrendous ways that brought on a cold sweat. 

Genuine concern filled Natasha’s expression, hardened the lines of her face. “It’s too much.”

Maria shook her head, but the very action felt like a lie. “It’s fine. I can afford it.”

The speed with which Natasha moved never ceased to amaze Maria. However, uncomfortable and out of place as she felt here, the sudden movement had Maria ready to attack the non-existent enemy. She drew her fists back, every muscle in her body coiled to strike out. The rational part of her mind knew that Natasha wouldn’t lead her into danger, wouldn’t bait her into a trap, but she still scanned the store for armed assailants and regarded her colleague, her friend, with suspicion. 

Any normal person would have pulled back, hand in the air, open and apologetic. But Natasha was far from normal and instead she came even closer, sliding across the sofa until they were side by side. She wrapped her hands around Maria’s fists and pushed them down to her lap, firm but gentle, so gentle. “Maria. It’s okay.”

Those green eyes were filled with such understanding, entirely void of judgment. That was almost worse. She let out a shaky exhale, the light pressure on her hands helping to ground her. “I -”

Much to her surprise, Natasha pulled Maria into a loose embrace. It was enough to let her know that she wasn’t alone, that there would be no danger here while she was around, while also giving her the space to breathe. “We’ll go somewhere else.”

“It’s not the money.”

Natasha laughed softly. “I know. I should have seen it earlier. I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

Maria shook her head, increasingly more aware of Natasha’s fingers digging into her skin as she calmed down. “Don’t apologise.”

“Do you need anything?”

She shook her head again as she wrangled her anxiety back under control. A decision she’d probably regret but Maria downed her glass of champagne. She felt foolish for the display of weakness and needed a rush of courage – or at least the pretence of one – to meet Natasha’s eyes again. Of course, she’d rather have had straight vodka but needs must. 

Maria pushed herself to her feet and followed Natasha out the store. She pretended not to hear the conversation Natasha had with the assistant at the door. Voice strained but light as they headed out the mall, Maria asked, “If it had been about the money…?”

“I have a solid tab.”

“Serious question?” Natasha paused then nodded. “How can you afford to shop there on a SHIELD salary?”

Natasha threw her arm around Maria’s shoulders and pulled her against her side. She lowered her voice, her levity equally forced but the effort was appreciated nonetheless. “Nabbed one of Stark’s credit cards.”

“Tasha.”

She rolled her eyes but grew serious, perhaps willing to share an uncomfortable truth because of her misjudgement in taking Maria to that store. “I’m not proud of it but I’ve got funds tucked away from odd contracts. It’s not enough to shop in places like that every day but it’s more than enough to get me through the door or, when the time comes, to relocate.”

It bothered Maria more than it should to hear Natasha speak with such certainty concerning the implosion of her life. There was no doubt in the other woman’s voice. _When_ the time came, not if. When. It wasn’t surprising, she supposed, seeing how they all spent their lives casting glances over their shoulders, running from ugly pasts, but the simple fact of the matter was that Maria didn’t want Natasha to disappear and never be seen again. 

She didn’t tell the red head that, though. How could she?

“That’s sensible,” she responded instead. “Where would you go?”

“I don’t know.” The lie hung between them for a few moments before Natasha sighed and admitted, “When I was a kid, I dreamed of escaping to Paris to be a proper ballerina. It would never work out now but there are places I could go. I could teach and live a quiet life. Get a cat. Grow my own vegetables.”

“You’d go insane within a year.” 

“A few contracts on the side never hurt anyone.” 

Maria smiled and Natasha quickly matched her expression. Suddenly they swerved right down a little alleyway. Before Maria had the chance to become tense, she found herself in a small second hand shop which was literally overflowing with clothes. Thick dresses and skirts made valiant attempts for freedom but were held back by the sheer weight of the hundred other gowns on the rail. 

Outfits from every era dating back over a hundred years were crammed into the small space. A light scent of vanilla coated the musty smell of old clothes, deceptively plain against the bright and eye popping mayhem around them. The back wall was entirely lined with shoe boxes, each neatly labelled – an odd attention to detail and order in an otherwise chaotic store. 

Aside from each other, they were alone until an elderly woman appeared from beneath a large pile of denim. She smoothed the white frizz from her forehead and smiled sweetly at the women. “Natalia! How lovely to see you again.” She glanced to Maria, a curious smirk on her lips. “Who is your date?”

Natasha blinked slowly then replied, “This is Maria. She’s a colleague.”

“Is that so?” 

Maria tugged at her jacket as the elderly woman judged her, uncomfortable beneath her gaze and trying hard not to think about the implications of her mistaking them as being on a date. Thankfully, the woman’s smile soon grew into a dazzling grin as she introduced herself as Janice. “Please, don’t allow me to intrude upon your girls’ outing. The changing room is just around there. Let me know if you need anything off the top shelves. I’m sure I’ve got a step ladder around here somewhere. I’ll be in the back if you need me.”

With that, Janice slipped through an overflowing rail of tartan golfing trousers and disappeared into who-knows-where on the other side. Maria turned to Natasha, incredulous as she continued to take in the _unique_ atmosphere of the place. “This is… It’s remarkable.” 

“You’ll get over the mess, I promise. It helps me to know that there’s a system. Come on, I’ll walk you through it.”

Natasha guided Maria through the shop, absolutely correct in thinking that recognising the system would calm her mind. Rails were separated by era, country and functionality. They were then ordered internally by colour and size. Once she saw the patterns, Maria could release the breath she’d been holding and actually get excited about exploring the literal thousands of options available. 

Swooping up any clothes that Natasha lingered on for more than a second, Maria grabbed a few bits of her own then shoved her friend towards the changing rooms to try them on. What followed was a montage that would have been at home in any teen drama as the women paraded through the store with a seriousness to match any model. 

Maria settled on her outfit first: tight trousers and an oversized blazer that cut right down her navel. Smart, and sexy, enough that she could wear it to the Christmas party while being a hundred times more practical – and comfortable – than any dress she might find. It wasn’t that she expected trouble at the benefit, surrounded by rich assholes and ex military, but her practicality would always win out over any fleeting desire to wear a dress. 

Her complete opposite, Natasha tried on almost ten different gowns, each of which fitted her more perfectly than the last. However, none quite met her exacting tastes. Maria didn’t mind sitting around as she worked her way through the pile. In fact, she had quite the wonderful time watching Natasha strut and pose, sultry and seductive and, most remarkably, light and joyous as she indulged herself. 

With only one dress left to try on, Natasha called back to Maria for help with the zip. As she slipped into the small changing room (which was, in reality, little more than a corner sectioned off from the rest of the shop by a thin hanging sheet), Maria’s breath caught in her throat. Natasha looked stunning. 

The strapless dress clung to every curve of her body, the deep purple lace tantalisingly delicate against her equally soft skin. The zip hung open, revealing Natasha’s bare back. Maria looked down at her feet, fighting the urge to curl her fingers around Natasha’s waist and pull their bodies together, to plant kisses across her shoulder and neck. 

Painfully slowly, she tugged on the zip and teased the dress together. She felt Natasha watching her in the mirror but didn’t, couldn’t, meet her gaze. Her fingers lingered over the lacy fabric for a moment before she stepped back. However, before Maria made it too far, fingers curled around her wrist and kept her this side of the cloth. 

Natasha turned, lifted her chin. Maria didn’t miss the way her gaze lowered to her lips, nor the way her breath hitched as Natasha leaned in closer. “Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful. No one will be able to take their eyes off you.”

“It’s not their attention I want.”

“No?”

Natasha shook her head. Deny her feelings though she might, there was no way that Maria could misinterpret this situation. Chest to chest in a tiny space, lips parted, those mesmerising green eyes staring up at her, willing her to take the leap. There was even one of those soppy, romantic songs on the radio as if the universe itself was willing them together. She was so close now, all it would take was one little step. 

Would it mean anything to Natasha? Probably not. But Maria’s self preservation was crumbling and she would risk breaking her heart for a few meaningless moments with her. She slid a hand around Natasha’s hips until it came to rest on the small of her back, guiding her in. Her eyes flickered shut and -

“How are you doing in there, ladies?”

The world snapped back into place, the harsh realities crashing down around Maria. She immediately dropped her hand and turned her back to Natasha, slipping out to greet Janice before the red head could convince her to stay. It was probably for the best anyway. 

Forcing a smile onto her face, the kind she usually reserved for smart mouthed Congressmen, far too cruel for such a sweet woman, Maria said, “All good, thank you. Where can I pay?”

“Follow me, my dear.” 

As Janice went through her books to find the prices and mark off what had been sold (apparently too distrusting of modern technology to use even an automated till) she spent the entire time stealing glances between Maria and Natasha, who had quickly changed and joined them at the desk. Giving the price, she asked, “So, are you two celebrating something nice?”

“Just the office Christmas party,” Maria muttered. She gathered her purchases and touched Natasha’s arm, instantly drawing it back. “Thanks for today. It was… fun but I’ve gotta get back to HQ and finish something. I’ll see you later.”

She didn’t wait for a response but spent the entire taxi ride home torturing herself by playing over every moment from their _absolutely-_ _not-_ _a-_ _date_ and imaging all the ways it could have gone differently. 

***

The week passed in a blur of activity and Maria became so caught up in the latest operations that she almost forgot about her almost kiss with Natasha. The adrenaline of the control room completely blocked out any fears she had about the upcoming party and as such it was (aside from the minor attack on HQ and a quick trip to medical) an almost peaceful week. 

However, when the action died down and everything returned to business as usual, her concerns hit harder than ever. No one had seen Natasha all week – she was fine but had turned in all her paperwork at ridiculous hours when HQ was guaranteed to be empty – and her absence left Maria too much time to obsess over what might come. It was a curse of the job, of duplicity and espionage. She could never let a thought go until every possible outcome had played out in her mind. 

Thankfully, the cure for that was copious amounts of alcohol and the party was overflowing with it. 

Maria spent the evening flittering between groups of people, a painful smile painted on her face. These things were simply terrible and it was even harder without a date by her side. The men she usually brought along were more than content to speak for her and gave her space to zone out until the night was over – or someone actually interesting came along. 

Sadly, the chances of that happening tonight were slim to none seeing how most of the Avengers were out in Europe to liberate a facility overrun by extra-dimensional beings and those who weren’t were currently not answering their phones or answering messages to let her know when they’d arrive to save her from her own torture. 

Still, Maria powered on and tried not to break the jaw of everyone that mentioned how much better she looked out of uniform. She downed more beers than the rest of the senior agents put together but remained depressingly sober nonetheless. Every time the elevator dinged, she looked across the room to see if Natasha had finally decided to grace the party with her presence but it was never her. 

As it neared midnight, Maria could take it no more. She felt foolish for having held such high hopes that Natasha would show, for checking her mobile every few minutes to check for any messages that might explain her date’s absence like a school girl. It was fine. She could handle the rejection. 

Downing the last of her beer, Maria turned to place the empty bottle on the bar when a song caught her attention. Throughout the night, the song selections had been either bland or cheesy, overly familiar melodies with too many jingle bells. Not this one, though. She smiled sadly to herself, thinking back to the weekend and how it had been playing in the store when she and Natasha had almost kissed. 

Her eyes flickered shut as she swung back and forth to the gentle beat. A gentle hand laid on her waist brought Maria’s heart to her throat. It was about bloody time. Trust Romanoff to wait and make such a dramatic entrance. She spun around and felt her expression drop through the floor. “Oh, Pepper! I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight.” 

“Honestly, I detest these parties but you know that SHIELD has valued contracts with Stark Industries and the board suggested _quite strongly_ that I show my face for a while.”

Maria smiled tightly, understanding of Pepper’s situation but currently not in the mood to deal with it. “I hope it’s not been completely terrible. I was on my way home, actually, but we should get lunch some time.”

Returning the kind smile, too polite to show any offence at the obvious brush off, Pepper agreed and promised to get her secretaries on it. She even walked Maria down to her taxi despite her protests, although it was probably for the best as the many, many drinks were finally starting to catch up with her. 

The ride back to her place was remarkably short, in no small part due to the fact that Maria slept through it all. She paid the driver, bundled her coat into her arms and climbed ungracefully out the cab. It was already half way up the road by the time Maria righted herself, only to find Natasha sat on her doorstep. 

Suddenly very sober, Maria crossed her arms over her chest and waited for an explanation, any explanation, so that she could collect the pieces of dignity and fall into her bed. “Well?”

“I should have been there.”

“Yeah. It doesn’t matter, though. I’m sure you had your reasons.”

“Not good ones.”

Maria eyed the steps in front of her then decided to remove her heels first before attempting the ascent to her door. From experience she knew that those four steps were more dangerous than a sheer facing cliff edge after a few drinks. Who knew what trouble she’d have after tonight. 

A shiver ran through her body as she kicked off her heels and stepped onto the damp concrete pavement. Not wanting to be out here for any longer than strictly necessary, Maria trotted up the steps to her door without any major issue and pulled her keys from her purse. She glanced down at Natasha, who was still sat by her feet, and muttered, “Just forget about it. It’s not like it was a date or anything.”

“Oh really? I thought that was exactly what it was.”

“How is that supposed to make me feel better, Romanoff?”

“I’m not blind, Maria. I know you care.”

“Whatever feelings I may or may not have towards you are irrelevant, Tasha. You said you would be there and you weren’t. I know that a staff Christmas party isn’t an end of the world scenario but I thought I could trust you to show up when you knew how much I didn’t want to be there.”

Natasha was on her feet in the blink of an eye. Right up in Maria’s space, huddling together beneath the dim light above the door, Natasha pushed a strand of hair from her face, the tingling ghost of her touch lingering long after her fingers fell away. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

It physically pained Maria to look away from her soft green eyes, to go against every instinct that demanded she forgive Natasha, but it was the only way she’d make it out alive. Maria released a deep sigh and shoved her key into the lock with such force that she was lucky it didn’t snap. “That’s great, Nat. Thanks. But if we’re done here, my feet are killing me and I to get out of these ridiculous clothes.”

“I’ll help you.” 

A harsh laugh escaped Maria’s lips, rough like sandpaper on the inside of her throat. Cheeks flushed with anger, she shoved Natasha away. “Don’t say things like that if you aren’t going to follow through.”

Her eyes took on a darker edge, the promise of danger and excitement practically tangible. “Who says I won’t?”

For a long moment, there was nothing but the silence between them. Then Natasha crashed Maria back against her front door and kissed her wickedly until neither could breathe. Her cool hands slipped under Maria’s blazer to cup her breasts. She nipped Maria’s bottom lip, swallowing the moan that her rough, desperate touches drew from her core. 

Maria could have lost herself in Natasha’s embrace, given herself over to eternity. She usually fought so hard to maintain control in every aspect of her life but she would more than happily give it up to the other woman. However, not like this. Pushing Natasha away, chest heaving, Maria said stiffly, “No. We’re not doing it like this.”

“Like what?”

She raked her fingers through her hair, searching for the right words. “Like it doesn’t matter. If you want someone to fuck, that’s fine. I get it. I normally prefer it that way too. But you can’t show up on my doorstep like we’re in some stupid romcom and pretend it’s anything other than that. It will hurt too much, Nat.” 

Shock at being pushed away morphed into a cautious understanding. Maria was completely prepared for Natasha to leave without another word, to pretend that this never happened and go back to the way things had been before. She didn’t run away, though. In fact, she took a tentative step forward and cupped Maria’s cheek, gently brushing her thumb along her jaw. “You’re right. You deserve better.” 

“I don’t think there is anyone better than you, Natasha.” Maria leaned in and brushed a gentle kiss over her lips, smiling softly despite herself. 

“I thought you didn’t want this,” the other woman breathed.

Maria shrugged, unable to deny the truth. “You are what I want. I don’t expect grand gestures or a hallmark romance. It doesn’t need a label and it can be our secret. It might be better that way. But -” 

“But you want it to mean something,” Natasha finished. 

“Does it?” 

The real question hung between them, unspoken: _Do I mean something to you_?

There was no hesitation in Natasha’s reply: “Yes. It means everything.”


End file.
